Pinned post

the importance of being truthful,
is like a ruler to my hand.

burning pulsing heat
fade, as I tell lies again.

bruises bloom anew on
overly punished skin.

delicious stories painted
while pain and pleasure blend.

my soul is fiery ink used
to write each quivering sin.

I bleed and scream into my work
until the pages grin.

Pinned post

I met ecstasy at a party.
she was dancing, laughing

flickering strobe lights
painting her face

her body glowing
deep. electric blue. henna

radiation exposure from black lights

music so loud
the pulse overtook my heart.

looking around
the pulse had taken everyone's.

The moon was power here
a cult against the rising of the sun

Pinned post

Life is a constant shedding
Threads falling away,
People, memories, dreams.
Until what remains
Just Is

looking up. seeing all the people
looking down.
cell phones screens glistening
among the waiting passengers.
what world's have you made?
or distraction did you assemble?
I'm not sad, just feeling disconnected.
so I'll look down again and write.
a little world, that someone
might visit and read.

when first I saw the island
who's beaches, black sands, shown like
pearls littered among the ocean floor.
moonlight pouring from a vase
lapping tides, purple turquoise
an ocean desperate to keep
what gem of a world it had let escape.

The Bargain webserial
Kinky aromantic polyamorous love story. With fae.

Bargaining with fae is dangerous, but Mattin was desperate. Everything seems to be working out okay...

Season 2 of The Bargain goes out for Early Access subscribers next week. If you missed it (or just want the refresher) catch up on season 1 here:

Get early access to all my serials and books for $5 a month on Substack:

#AmWriting #webserial #books #fantasy #kink #aromance

I put the clouds on a clothesline.
let them gently drip.
rainbows form from falling perls.
smokey laundry
crying itself to sleep.
until it's dry again.

the ongoing construction,
the obstructive loader,
introductions on concrete -
but nothing over
body trailers to dump
off in the plot
of nowhere,
or about some sad sap,
the construed foundation
of not-bees but no foul,
encrust the surface
intrusive in
areas off limits
molded and still is -
the goings-on, the going out.

returning so often
full moon, full of
thoughts tonight.

within the fireplace,
flames become dancers.
an erratic wildfire,
small self absorbed spirits.
warming and dying and free

The butcher’s knife
cleaved its yolked rind
in one motion.

It was no match,
cracked to the rivet
splitting grain and
night stillness.

Over by the
wet kitchen floor
the lune slipped.

another attempt at #poetry

Go under the mountain
Where the sun can’t reach
Dig deeper and deeper
’tili you forget the peak
Drown your mistakes
In the soil that you seek
Follow your nightmares
Until you find peace

#poem #writing

congratulations on losing control.
it was important that
you exploded.
I feel you finally
hear me.
I love the you that
fights apathy.

I went to see the world to gather
Any useful scraps I could find
And turn them into jewels
But the only thing I brought back
Was distraction


My first picture book is out! It's called Poesy the Monster Slayer and it's an epic tale of bedtime-refusal, toy-hacking and monster-hunting, illustrated by Matt Rockefeller. It's the monster book I dreamt of reading to my own daughter.


Show thread

The children pursue
the Flyers, hoping to reach
the Stone before them

Lights, were coming from a fireplace
Whispering in a cabin not so far away
I could be there, I knew
In the fire, I could be warmth
Slowly filling the cabin
The people asleep, scared of the dark
My body melting timber
Until the sunrise, my last cry
Seeing them rise, I die

Her eyes swirl blue green
Like the ocean in spring
Yellow hair I once had too
But mine darkened brown too soon 
When I was young
I held her close
Like every child does
I never wanted to leave her side
As we got older 
I grew apart
Deep into the parts of my heart
That longed for belonging
That discovery of self
And now as I have kids of my own
Whenever I return to my home
I make sure to always tell her
I love you Mom
And hold her close
Like I did when I was young

And the summer
Glued my mouth
With the sweet
Taste of longing
And a promise
That it would last


today I walked until the sidewalk
fell away to a puddle that
was overtaken by an octopus
who laughed while smoking cigars.
"what have you, come to sail?
the enormously foul creature spoke
but was careful, to not
let tendrals fall out.
I stared, so did it, until our eyes
revealed, blue waters so calm
they grew an ocean. so we swam.
dancing together.

sometimes a walk ends up,
being the best way to make friends.

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